Big Events

For some it is the big memories which count.  They can recall significant birthdays, awesome anniversaries, and incredible holiday dinners.  These are the highlights which define their lives; major steps on a incredible journey.  I remember things differently.  When I look back, across the generations, at home and with work, I find myself recalling an unending series of extraordinary experiences.  In general they involve one or two others.  Small events on another’s scale; defining moments for me.
 
I recall Whitney explaining how to relax and be with God in the morning.  It was an funny conversation, I still find myself smiling with the memory.  I’m not sure anyone else has the picture, yet for me her lessons that day carry on through the present.  I find myself reliving a shared moment with Cherry, and my heart finds its rest after skipping  a beat or two.  I listen to Carli sharing something crazy in her life; it seems as if life’s unusual often finds a home along her steps.  Friends show up, we walk together, their conversations travel with me long after their journey’s sounds fade.
 
The contrast in perspectives is stark.  It follows the same lines as some view God and our relationships to Divinity.  Their conversation shows the focus;  “Just take a look at Zion, will you?  Centering our worship in festival feasts!  Feast your eyes on Jerusalem, a quiet and permanent place to live.  No more pulling up stakes and moving on, no more patched-together lean-tos.”  (Isaiah 33.20)  Success defined by external events, things which can be counted and explained.
 
Alternatively, I find God in life’s seams and intersections, places where people meet and life is defined.  God is present as I leave the apartment in the morning, reaching out to show me how I am Divinity’s child.  God is present in the silence and beauty of everything around me; in sunrises and sunsets, in the wind and rain, and even in the darkness prevailing in the city that never sleeps.  God is here, ready and waiting to be part of our lives.